


What Happens In Vegas

by Kris



Series: Vegas [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Accidental Marriage, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-10
Updated: 2009-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kris/pseuds/Kris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you can't beat 'em, Join 'em</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens In Vegas

When he runs into Nate in the bar of their hotel in Vegas, Eliot thinks that maybe he should step in. The man looks like he’s already gone through half a bottle of single malt scotch.

He tries, he’ll give himself that. He sits down at the bar beside Nate, waves the bartender away.

“Go away, Eliot,” Nate sounds coherent, which is good. “I’m not in the mood for company right now.”

“Not in the mood for company or more in the mood to enjoy that hangover you’re going to be nursing tomorrow?” Eliot asks. Nate turns his head and looks at him with a raised eyebrow. It’s his ‘I don’t really care to listen to what you’re saying’ expression, the one that Eliot usually sees directed at Sophie when Sophie starts chattering away about going back to Paris.

“You know what?” Nate asks. “I’m in the mood to drink, so either you’re in the mood to drink with me, or you’re going to leave me to myself.”

Eliot knows three things in life: never get behind a horse, never stand in front of a gun if you don’t have the upper hand and never piss off Sophie Devereaux, who has a soft spot for Nathan Ford and would probably kill him if he let the man literally drown himself in alcohol.

“Well, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,” Eliot says and sits down at the bar. Nate salutes him with a sardonic smile and tilt of his glass.

“Bottom’s up.”

***

His head is killing him. It’s like a herd of wild horses stampeding through his head. Eliot groans horribly when the light filters through the eye he cracks open. And then both of his eyes pop open in shock. He remembers meeting Nate at the bar, he remembers the waitress who smiled at them a lot and he even remembers leaving, stumbling into a cab but none of this explains why he’s naked in the honeymoon suite with a gold ring on his left hand and Nathan Ford drooling on the pillow beside him with a matching ring of his own.

The others are going to have a field day with this.

He’s kind, he gives Nate another hour of sleep. An hour more of Eliot staring in horrifying dismay at the lush red furniture and the white walls, the gold accents and…were those rose petals on the floor?

After an hour of locating his pants (under the bed) and his boxers (on the lampshade by the door) and accidentally finding their marriage certificate (in a brass frame with an official seal on the bedside table) he showers quickly in the overly large bathroom with its tasteful array of lube and very carefully doesn’t look at the obviously half empty bottle of KY but there isn’t a twinge of pain in his body not coming from his stomach or his head.

He orders room service (eggs, bacon, bananas and orange juice) from an overly cheerful woman who makes the weirdest gushy noises when she realizes it’s the honeymoon suite and then wakes Nate up.

He tries to be nice about it the first time he does it. He shakes Nate’s shoulder gently and calls the man’s name. Nate rolls over and pulls the blanket over his head with a pitiful sound. The move bares his back covered in scratch marks and a few vicious hickeys on his shoulder. Spurred on, partially by embarrassment, partially by a cruel desire to do unto others, Eliot jabs his fingers into Nate’s exposed side and the man jerks up with a shout, tries to get out of bed, trips when the sheet gets tangled around his feet and hits the red carpet hard. He stays there for a few seconds before looking up blearily.

“Eliot?” he asks, voice hoarse, and looking at his lips Eliot has a brief flash of what they looked like wrapped around his cock.

“Yeah Nate?” he asks in an equally hoarse voice and he cringes on the inside and fights the urge to lick his lips. If the man says anything stupid, Eliot’s going to have to do something drastic.

“Why are there rose petals on the floor?” Eliot is saved from having to do anything drastic by a knock on the door and a Spanish accent calling out “room service.”

“You might want to get dressed,” Eliot says and gets up to open the door. He almost slams the door back shut but Parker’s just a shade quicker, she didn’t drink her weight in scotch the night before, and gets the room service cart in the door.

“Soooo, why’re you in the Honeymoon suite?” Alec asks behind Parker. He has a smirk on his face, Parker’s expression is just as unreadable as always and Sophie has an eyebrow raised in expectation of an answer.

“Eliot, have you seen my pants?” The changing expressions on their faces would be funny if it weren’t for the pain in his head and his gut.

“No Nate, I haven’t seen your pants,” Eliot says. 

“Nevermind, I found yours, I think you’re wearing mine.” Eliot looks down and groans and carefully doesn’t think about how the day couldn’t get any worse.

/end


End file.
